Wait.
Nes …?
“Murphy?” Nessa exclaimed, her heart racing for an entirely different reason. What on earth was he doing outside at this time of night? She didn’t have to be at work for hours. Had he come back to talk to her about her offer? No, surely not …
Another text appeared.‘Yes. It’s me. Open up.’
“You can hear me from here?!” she all but shouted into her room, the words slurring together as her brain tried to keep up with her mouth. What the hell? What if she’d farted in her sleep? He would have heard that too!
Her face heated with embarrassment as she scrambled out of bed, the sheets tangling around her legs as she stood. She swayed precariously, nearly toppling backward before she righted herself.
I’m never drinking this much again,she vowed, knowing she was likely full of shit. Wine was an unfortunate coping mechanism when she desperately needed to unwind, although usually it didn’t hit her quite this hard.
Maybe her age was finally catching up to her, though she didn’t think twenty-seven was that big of a deal.
Hustling from her room and into the hall, she beelined for the front door, ignoring how hazy and off-kilter everything looked. Taking a quick peek through the peephole just to be sure, she unlocked the door, ripping it open to gape at the handsome, burly bear shifter standing on her porch. The cold night air swept over her, and she shivered.
Wearing a different long-sleeved sweater and jeans from the day before, Murphy’s eyes widened as they settled on Nessa. They flashed gold for a brief second and then darkened, returning to normal as they traveled leisurely down her body. “Nessa …”
Nessa shivered, though it wasn’t from the cold air. No, it was from the heat of Murphy’s attention as his eyes swept over every inch of her.
He swallowed thickly, his voice taking on a husky note as he asked, “Nes, what are you wearing?”
“What?” Confused, she looked down, expecting to see the normal pajama pants and T-shirt she always wore to sleep. While her shirt was still on, her pajama pants were gone. Instead, the only thing covering her lower half was a cherry-red thong.
She gasped in horror, her sluggish, drunk mind telling her to run away before he saw anything else. Her vision swam as she turned to flee back down the hall, only to realize she’d given him an unobstructed view of her bare ass. She spun back around, and her feet slipped out from under her as the world tilted right off its axis.
With a yelp, she fell backward, expecting to crash into the ground. She kind of hoped for it, actually. Maybe she’d smack her head and fall unconscious, just to give herself a break from the mortification coursing through her.
Murphy moved fast, though, grabbing her before she could fall. His arms banded around her waist as he tugged pulled her to him, lifting her up until her feet dangled several inches from the floor. She grabbed at his shoulders to steady herself, her breaths ragged and her breasts pushed against the hard planes of his chest.
Murphy’s hand slid up her back, cupping her nape, and his delicious scent filled her senses as his nose brushed against hers. He was so close he could kiss her, and her heart kicked into overdrive, her pulse beating in her ears like a drum.
“Are you alright?” he asked huskily.
Alright? No! Yes. She didn’t know, actually, but the longer he kept her smashed against him, the more she wanted to bury herface in his neck and breathe him in. The more she wanted to soak up his warmth, to slide her hands under his sweater andfeelhim. All over.
Nessa’s face felt like it was burning up as she nodded dumbly, her fingers flexing around his muscular, firm shoulders. “Yeah, I-I think so.”
His nostrils flared slightly. “Are you drunk?”
“No. Yes. Maybe? No, definitely yes,” she blurted out, her slurred words almost unintelligible.
Even if she wasn’t drunk, she didn’t think she’d be able to think straight anyway, not with Murphy’s fingertips pressed against her lower back, resting just over the top of her thong. Part of her wanted to wiggle her hips just to see if his grip would slip and fall to her ass.
What would he do? Grab a handful? She might have smallish breasts but she had a nice, round butt. More than enough to fill his hands.
Stop thinking like that, you drunk bitch!she scolded herself. Too bad it did nothing to censor her thoughts.
Her eyes landed on his lips, fascinated by how soft they appeared. Would he kiss her softly, too? Or would he dominate her mouth with his, forcing her to take what he gave her? Mmmm, which would she prefer?
“Come on, let’s get you to bed,” Murphy murmured, interrupting the fantasy she’d begun constructing in her head. “Legs around my waist, Nes.”
“Wha—” Nessa drew in a sharp breath as Murphy adjusted his hold on her, planting one hand firmly on her bare ass and hoisting her up while his other one tangled in her hair. Instinctively, she did as he’d instructed, wrapping her legs around him as he pushed the front door closed behind him with his foot.
She wanted to squeal in delight at his touch, to arch her back just to show him what she was working with. Luckily, she didn’t. Otherwise, she’d never forgive herself when she sobered up. The poor man was trying to be chivalrous, and if she rewarded that by traumatizing him by shaking her ass, he’d never want to see her again, mating sickness be damned!
Hyperaware of the warm fingers squeezing her ass, it was a struggle for Nessa to think. Or breathe. Or do anything, afraid that he’d stop touching her if she drew attention to herself.
